Work in progress
by kimmiesjoy
Summary: A collection of one shots based on dialogue prompts.
1. 7x07 OUATITW

Based on a series of dialogue prompts I found online, each prompt will be in bold.

* * *

 _7x07 Once Upon A time In The West_

* * *

" **Look, I don't think you understand - we open those doors, we let them in."**

"Castle, I don't think _you_ understand. You invited them here." Kate stepped around him, dusting her hands down her pant legs, reaching for the door even though he continued to block her path.

"To celebrate our nuptials," he hissed. "Not to spend the evening being glared at and sniped at by three people who clearly hate me."

"They don't hate us, Castle. They're just a little peeved they didn't get to come to the wedding."

"No, no, you're right, they don't hate _us_ , they hate _me_." He huffed, sighed and released the door. "I don't know why, you eloped just as much as I did."

"Lanie doesn't hate you," Kate decreed, exasperation a straining thing she just about held at bay. "It was most definitely _me_ responsible for the no dessert debacle."

"Espo and Ryan just -"

"Ryan will get over it."

Castle sighed, "Yeah, but Espo - I just ... I don't even know."

"Espo's Espo." Kate touched his arm, tugged until he was facing her again, "He watched me grieve for you, Castle. Mourn you as though you'd died, whilst trying to keep everyone else on track to find you." She shrugged, sighing out a sound so far from everything he had wanted for them this evening. Heart clenching hard he pulled her closer, heard the rest of her words through the muffled creases of his shirt. "He wanted the happy ending as much as we did. They all did."

"You said you were happy to elope with just our -"

"I wouldn't change a thing about that day, believe me," she interrupts, head thrown up, truth scalding her tone. "But can I see where they're coming from? Of course I can." She smiles slowly, "They spend years teasing us and betting on us and making comments about every damn thing we said that happened to -"

"Complement the others train of thought?"

" - yeah, and everytime we -"

"Finished each other's sentences?"

She laughed, "Yes, every time, it became another tick on a checklist, a step closer in their wait for us to get our acts together."

"And the big payoff -"

"Our wedding day."

" - we had without them."

"We're horrible people," Castle lamented.

"No we're not."

"We are, we can't even show them a video."

"We can show them the photos my dad took," Kate smiled, touching his face with the memory of their wedding ceremony misty in her eyes, "And they can get over it, eat our food and be happy for us. Or frankly they can get out."

He grinned, looped a hand around her waist and tugged her into him, mouth at her ear, "Can I be there when you try to evict Lanie?"

"Lanie doesn't frighten me." She grinned, happy tiptoes lifting her closer to his lips.

"Girl, _Lanie_ is gonna bust down this door if you leave her standing out there any longer."

Kate grimaced then poked her tongue out at the woman on the other side of the door.

"Ready, wife?"

"No." She grumped.

"Into the breach?" He nudged her elbow.

"Still know that guy with the island?"

"Passports with fake names are in the safe, say the word, _Mrs. Bastle_ , and we'll run."

Reaching around him for the door she swiped at his chest, " _Bastle_? Oh, you are so not in charge of fake identities anymore."

"Shame," he hissed as their friends finally crossed the threshold, "Now you'll never know what I named the children."


	2. Pilot FFYG

_Pilot Flowers For Your Grave_

* * *

" **...just to be sure we're on the same page."**

" **Page?" We're not even in the same library!"**

"Well technically..." he looks around, flicks his eyes toward the books and back again, smirks when her hands clench at her sides. Frustration looks good on her, a bubbling thing that brings hot, pink flashes of color to her cheeks. He's toying with her, he knows, she knows, and yet the steam is about to erupt from her ears. Uncontrollable.

She bites out the words, "There is. No chance. In hell. That we could ever be on the same -"

"Page." He laughs, shrugs. "Look, we're already finishing each other's sentences."

She growls, "Don't be cute, you stole crucial evidence in an ongoing murder investigation."

"You think I'm cute?"

"Why am I not surprised _that's_ the part that stuck with you." She waves a hand, intent on ignoring him, and the officers at his back poke, prod, make him trip toward the exit.

The corner of her mouth quirks, enjoying it.

"Scale of one to ten, how much would you love to see me fall on my face right now?"

An arched eyebrow is his only response for a moment, his eyes tangling with hers until they fall, trailing the line of her clenched jaw. Her tongue swipes at her lips, distraction as she steps in close, "The desire I have for you -" he blinks, wide eyed, "- to be injured, maimed, or bodily harmed, is not quantifiable on a scale of one to ten."

He shakes it off quick, pushing aside the red hot flare that burned through his gut when her breath traced his lips.

"I bet that's not the only desire you have for me, is it, detective?"

Her fingers flicker to her hip and he laughs, loud, irritating her vastly becoming his new favorite pastime.

"You're right. I'd quite like to shoot you."

"Wouldn't you rather kiss me?"

She throws a terrifying glare over her shoulder when the men beside him snicker.

"Who would you like us to call to collect you, Mr. Castle?" Tone professional now, she holds the door and allows the uniformed officers to push him ahead of her. "I assume someone, somewhere is looking for you -" she mutters under her breath "- probably with a butterfly net and a tazer."

She skips ahead, pleased with herself.

"Ouch."

She swings around, grinning, "Oh, I'm sorry, did I dent your ego?"

"No, I was just remembering the time I got tazed as part of an _intimate_ encounter. Research purposes of course." He lets his eyes go glassy, as if lost in memory, all the while watching her reaction.

She looks disgusted.

"You're disgusting."

He laughs delighted that he's read her right again, "I told you my safeword was apples."

"Just another detail I'll happily forget when you're out of my hair."

Out of her hair? Not if he has anything to say about it.

"So, remind me again, why am I under arrest?" He smirks as they leave the library, nodding to passers by as he practically skips to the car.

"You stole evidence," she throws up her hands, seething. God, she's hot when she's angry. " _My_ evidence, from _my_ desk in _my_ -"

"Yeah, see," he laughs, interrupts just to see her flustered, this is more fun than he's had in a long time, "I still think it's cos I made you look bad."


	3. 3x22 TLADILA

_3x22 To Love and Die in L.A_

* * *

 **She sighed " ... If only"**

The words from Royce are circling her head. They burn like acid at the back of her throat as though she herself has kept them trapped inside, not read them as the last confession of her dead mentor. Her dead friend.

She loved him once, still does in that far off misty way that lays rose colored hues to steely interactions. His ways and his attention brought her through a dark time in her life, now he's dead and his words have, once again, turned her head in a different direction.

She's not blind to the connection she shares with Castle, never has been, but hearing, reading, seeing the words on paper has opened up a part of her heart that has been barricaded away for a long time. That she loves Castle is ... a question she steadfastly has not asked herself since last summer. That she could have something real with him something she has tried deeply to ignore, too bent on maintaining the normality of their friendship. Too scared to risk her heart. There is truth wrapped up in the hands of a man who knew he was not long for this earth, a truth she has known for a while now, deaf to those around her who knew it too. But the voices of the dead scream loudly.

Her eyes blur, achy with the need for sleep, hot with pain and confusion. The cabin remains dark, the flight calm and uneventful and if it wasn't for the press of his hand on her shoulder drawing her awareness away from the turbulent emotions inside, Kate would have thought Castle had remained asleep. The curl of his thumb is too insistent to be marred by dreams, too gentle to be loose and lax as he comes awake. He's been watching her, as he does, ever vigilant at her side.

Crushing the letter to her chest she turns, finds him closer than she expected, soft eyes far too aware for her to be able to convince herself he'll miss her turmoil. Not that she could hide it from him. If he didn't read it in her face, he'd always find another way. It's just the kindness and concern that no one else had ever shown her that lays his face bare. Adds depth and years to the man himself, brings those laughter lines into new context the longer she finds herself staring back.

The burn intensifies when their eyes meet and he's speaking as she tries to swallow.

"You ok?"

Kate shakes her head, letter tight to her chest. "No," she confesses, almost in surprise. The longer she stares at Castle the more she yearns to confess. Confess she came back into their hotel room looking for him, willing to throw caution to the wind. Confess her intent last summer, and that she knew the truth in the letter long before she read what was written on the page.

"His last words?" Castle asks eyes flickering from her face for the barest second. She knows he's curious, but he doesn't pursue, doesn't pester, just rests a hand on hers and waits. Somehow it helps, his silent knowledge and gentle touch. It allows her to push aside the confusion and she nods.

"Yeah, bossing me around even at the end," she cracks a smile, halfhearted but real, fingers easing in their grip of the paper.

"He -" she pauses, pinches her lips together, searching for where to begin. They crinkle and he reaches for them, eyes never leaving her face.

"Left you with a mission?" He asks, caution and fear, maybe a little anger too.

She laughs, a sad sound even to her own ears, "I guess you could say that."

Her eyes drop and her finger traces the lines of the last two words, _if only_ such a final statement for a man now dead.

She jumps when Castle's hands press over her strength and heat in his palms burns down to her bones, igniting flesh and soothing calm all at once. He strokes over her skin and slides his fingers between her own, every small glance of flesh forcing her to fight shivers and shakes of awareness. He takes the paper from her and she freezes.

"Whatever's in this letter, Beckett, it's for another day."

He's firm as the paper slides from her fingers, neither looking down nor attempting to read it. Whether it be lack of sleep, grief, or just the look on his face, she doesn't know, but she doesn't fight it, finding it weirdly relieving when he removes it from her hands. Now is not the time.

"Whatever confession he gave, whatever sense of duty or decision you think stems from those words -" he folds the paper, slips it back into its envelope as her eyes swim, "- it shouldn't come from a place of grief, Kate."

He hands back the envelope, strokes the slanted curve of her name with his finger the way he did with his voice when he spoke it, repeating the movement on her hand. Tender. Loving.

A tear rolls down her cheek and she tries to wipe it away before he can see.

He sees it anyway.

"You should sleep," he whispers, no more no less, nudging her elbow from the rest, patting his shoulder, offering nothing but comfort when they both know they came close to sharing so much more. She smiles, watery and blurry around the edges, laying her cheek to the warmth of his arm before closing her eyes.

He's not wrong, and if she truly wants something with him, something that will last, it cannot come from this. Cannot come before they are home and she can lay her ghosts to rest.

"Thank you," she hums, aware he won't know why, not truly, not tonight, but grateful nonetheless. Inhaling deeply, she falls asleep as the first light of dawn spears the darkness, feeling the rumble of his response rather than hearing it.

"Always."


	4. 1x09 LGL

_1x09 Little Girl Lost_

* * *

" **You're a psychopath."**

" **I prefer creative."**

She side steps him, "Yeah well I'd prefer you didn't follow me around all the time."

"Sadly for you, Beckett, the Mayor signed off on it."

"The Mayor can bite me."

He stutters and laughs, skipping after her only to come up short when she stops dead, swinging around to face him. She glares, hellfire, snagging the coffee from his hand and gulping at it viciously.

"Tetchie in the mornings, detective?"

"I didn't sleep well." She throws her eyes hard in his direction and he feels instantly sorry for aggravating her. It's been a crappy few days, but the case is over now. A little girl safe. Doesn't mean it won't stay with him.

He confesses quietly, "Me either."

She pauses, "Really?"

"I have a daughter, Beckett, I spent the night torn between hovering outside her door to listen to her breathe and barging in to nail her windows shut."

Her lips quirk, "Where did you settle in the end?"

"On a chair at the end of her bed."

She smiles, "Bet she loved that."

"Less and less with each passing year." The smile lingers, he holds the door open for her, "What?"

"Nothing." She shrugs, sighs, "Just, I keep forgetting you have a kid." She eyes him almost suspiciously, "You're a dad."

"Is that a problem?"

"No, it adds layers." She gasps in shock at her own confession, hand rising up, covering her mouth.

He laughs, "Not the only onion around here, Beckett," he leans in close, "feel free to _peel_ me anytime."


	5. 5x04 MHW

_5x04 Murder He Wrote_

* * *

" **You didn't seriously ...?"**

" **Yep."**

" **You just ...?"**

" **Yep."**

" **Does that mean ...?"**

" **Quite probably."**

"Sooo," her voice is nothing he's ever heard before, high and light and a little bit scary, "Ryan knows."

She's almost too calm now the initial freakout is wearing off.

Her nails dig in, "Ryan _knows_."

Or _not_ wearing off.

She's already at his side, hunched by the bed, but now as she speaks she crawls to him, sits herself up so their elbows brush. Then she Deflates.

" _Ryan_ knows."

He tries not to laugh, honestly he's freaking out too, but his coping mechanisms might get him manhandled, and he's not wearing anywhere near protective enough clothing to deal with her malicious fingers.

"I would say that's a safe assumption."

He's still staring down at the phone, disbelieving.

In retrospect, as a man who prides himself on noticing details, he should have picked up on Ryan's giddiness. One minute it was all la de dar and teasing tone and the next Ryan had spun an evil, convincing web of innocence, enticing Castle down a path of near confession.

"Babe?"

"Ryan?" He blurts, still baffled by the whole conversation, suddenly more incensed than Beckett.

She breathes out a shallow laugh, nodding, stroking, soothing, "Takes you by surprise, doesn't he?"

"Yeah." He huffs, "I figured _Lanie_ would be the one to guess and that - what?"

"Er -" she bites her thumb nail, looks up at him with guilt a heated thing that makes her cheeks bright devilish sparks against the youthful, innocent contrast of her ponytail.

"You _told_ her." His lips quirk but he coughs, hides it, intent on the story.

"She _guessed_." That flare of heat, sudden once more through her cheeks and down her chest, makes him regret another night spent thoroughly unsatisfied in bed together. Caught up in a case that wasn't even theirs, they've both been as bad as the other when it comes to murderous distraction. But she bites her lip, doesn't even attempt to help when she collapses back into his bed, a dramatic hand flung over her eyes and the already too short robe riding high.

He gulps, tries to stay focused, "She guessed _sex_ I didn't know she guessed -"

"She gave me a lecture, Castle." Kate confesses, "Wanted to know who it was that'd swept me off my feet when she'd been fighting _your_ corner."

"She did?"

"I couldn't lie to her," she swallows, eyes opening slowly to meet his, hand lifting from her face to touch his jaw. "I was so happy," she strokes, scratches at his stubble, "I wanted to tell _someone_." Her eyes flash to his dangerously, "Don't gloat."

He does gloat, can't help it. Won't even try. "She said you had a glow."

He's on his back with her astride him before he can even blink, the thick cord of her tied robe right there at the tip of his fingers.

"It's a glow of annoyance, I've had it for years," she gripes, but the flex and flare of her hips throw her severity right out the window.

"Sex glow," he hums, feeling her body thrum, delighting in the prospect of making her spark like an exploding neon sign.

"I can hear you thinking," she twists, leans over, the coil of her hair suddenly wrapped in his palm. "Why do you never listen?" She growls, smile bright, hips and knees trapping him tight against her.

"It's more fun when you reprimand me."

"Just want me to - mm - use my cuffs on you, don't you?"

His eyes flare wide, "Did you bring them?"

"Like you don't have a set stashed here."

"I could probably - mmm - put my _hand_ on a _pair_ should you so require."

She quirks an eyebrow at his phrasing, the movement of his fingers, and the fire between them ignites. One small tug and she topples all the way into him.

They kiss, a smirking partnership of lips and teeth and tongue. Hands fast and quick and then frozen nowhere near fun places when the doorbell chimes.

They groan in unison, a name they never plan to utter in bed again.

"Chief Brady."

"Don't invite him in."

"I won't," he promises, extricating himself from her arms. He clambers from the bed and she rolls, retying as she goes.

"Don't agree to help him with anything."

Castle turns hands raised, all innocence and light save for the perpendicular swing of his nether regions.

"And knot your robe, no one wants to see that."

He grins, "Except you."

She rolls her eyes and tosses his pants at his face, huffing when he catches them instead. "Castle, I mean it. I am on vacation."

"I knooow." He calls, voice drifting as he descends the stairs. "Beckett, I've got this."

She barely waits a beat before she follows after him.


	6. 2x14 TTM

_2x14 The Third Man_

* * *

" **On a scale of one to ... Australia, how dangerous are we talking?"**

He turns his head away, grimacing and she laughs, not at him per se but not _not_ at him. "Castle, it's a harmless tarantula," she smoothes one hand up his chest, over the lapels of his suit, "now stay still and I'll just -"

"Harmless?" He squeaks, closes his eyes, "You're not seriously gonna touch it?"

"Well yeah, unless you wanna keep it." She makes to step back, holding up her hands, "I'm sure it will make a run for it eventually, probably climb inside your shirt and shimmy across your chest, slide down your pant leg -"

"Eughhhh, get it off, Beckett." He closes his eyes, doesn't feel her move closer until the warmth of her hand lands on his chest again. "How are you so calm about this?" He hisses through clenched teeth, eyes still scrunched, trying not to shudder.

She lets out a quiet laugh, warm breath ghosting over his cheek telling him she's closer still. He peeks one eye open then, catches a glimpse of her tongue stroke across her lip in concentration.

"I dated a guy in high school," she hums, "parents had a collection, pretty cool snake too." She talks, about animals and the weird smelling teenage boy she spent three months with. About feeding snakes and dead mice and that she loved the feel of rats tails between her fingers, the domesticated kind, she stresses, not the evil sewer dwelling monsters. She's clever, and sweet, kind in ways he's always assumed but never really been on the receiving end of. Beckett distracts him with the movement of her tone rather than her hands as she weaves her tale, the lyrical flow of her voice giving up glimpses of her history so he won't focus on where she has her finger tips.

Calm and collected, as though dealing with an eight legged suspect, she entices the beast into the palm of her hand and lifts it away, chuckling as Castle squeaks out his relief and collapses forward, pressing his hands to his knees. It's only once she's placed the spider safely behind glass that Beckett sees how truly shaken he is.

"Hey, it's gone," she brushes a hand over the curve of his spine, "you okay there, Castle?"

"Don't laugh?" He pleads, shuddery breath making his voice sound far away.

With her hand on his back she can feel the ripple through his muscles as he shakes and unknowingly she begins to stroke back and forth, up and down the length of his spine.

"I won't laugh." She swears it, can feel the tremor of fear that leaves his body tight with more than just fear, perhaps something bordering more on _phobia?_ "Do you want me to -"

"Stay." He breathes the word, less pant and more hiss as he calms himself down.

"I walked into a nest once." He blurts. It's sudden enough to make her hand freeze but she hides it well, strokes on and waits him out. Knowing _him_ , talking will help. "Mother spent one summer working in this run down theatre in London, there were rats and cobwebs, perfect for the ambience of a Jack the Ripper play." He laughs, sounding more like himself by the second. "I was running around backstage -"

"How old were you?" She questions, chasing flickers in her mind's eye of a sweet little boy, with dark hair and mischievous smile, skipping merrily into danger.

"Five," he sighs, "I ran through a loop of cobwebs, thought it was cool. It tickled." He smiles, stands straight and doesn't comment when her hand stays pressed softly against his back. "I was spinning around and around, laughing and then -" his voice cuts off, a gulp and a groan forcing the remainder of the story from him - "suddenly they were everywhere."

She grimaces on his behalf, strokes again, loops her fingers around to coil at his elbow.

"I think I screamed for a solid five minutes."

"And ever since?"

He shakes his head, "Not all the time. I had nightmares for a while, became more of a stomp and run kind of person rather than trap and release."

"Alexis liked to let them go free," she guesses, smiling in sympathy when he nods. She grows quiet, speaks softly, "I wouldn't have -"

"I know."

He releases a shaky breath and stands straight, fingers sliding over her own as if she's holding him up. Their eyes lock and she waits him out, expecting something other than the thankful gaze he bathes her with. Nothing comes. In the distance they hear the boys, clearing the scene, shouting orders and requests back and forth to the uniformed officers traipsing through the pet shop. His eyes widen and his head jerks to hers.

"I won't say a word," Beckett vows, reaching for her purse as they step apart.

"Thank you." Eyes serious, bearing a solemn weight she seldom sees, Castle reaches for her hand. "And thank you for, erm, saving me from the beast."

She smiles as he tries to joke his way through it, "That's what partners are for."

He grins, pleased. "Saving my ass in the heat of the moment?"

"I draw the line at touching your ass, Castle." She laughs when his cheeks flush and he splutters, levity for his benefit, "That's when you call Esposito."


	7. 4x13 AEOB

_4x13 An Embarrassment of Bitches_

* * *

" **You smell like wet dog."**

"You say that like it's a bad thing?" He shrugs, trying to sidestep the excitable mutt between them, laughing when Royal spins on the spot with him, tail wagging.

"Not necessarily a _bad_ thing," Beckett smirks, "not necessarily _attractive_ either."

She gulps, eyes electric as they dart to his own, but he lets it go, doesn't chase up her throwaway comment with snark or tease. He watches as she shakes herself out of it and drops to her knees, burying her face in the dog's neck.

"Hey babe, did you have fun? Did Castle take you for a walk in the rain? Did you - What?"

The force of her stare makes him realise his mouth is open and he snaps it shut, shakes his head, but his eyes remain wide as her role at his antics.

"Yes, Castle. I'm a pet name person."

He grins. "Pet name for the pet."

"Yeah."

" _Our_ pet."

"Oh," she laughs, sounds pleased, "I guess he is." Her eyes lift from the dog, but she doesn't rise up, crossing her legs instead and pulling Royal closer. She gets lost in ruffling the dog's ears, stroking her fingers through his fur, and Castle gets lost in her. In the quiet way her breath flutters across the dog's nose, the gentle laugh that leaves her lips when a thick pink tongue darts out and catches her cheek.

"Think he likes you calling him babe," Castle comments, eyes over the flush that lights her skin.

"What gave it away?" She asks, smiling.

"Well, he's never kissed _me_ like that."

She laughs loudly, a bark of sound making the dog's ears prick up, "You jealous, Castle?"

He pouts.

Her eyes narrow, "Of the name or -" she freezes, words trapped over her tongue, realisation stark.

His breath catches, and their eyes do the same, anticipation and longing so thick in the air he'd need to wade through it to touch her. And he wants to touch her. Stroke at the soft line of her jaw with his thumb and lean in to kiss her.

"Both," he hears himself answer, a little too honest, knees liquid and weak as he comes down heavily at her side on the floor.

He hears the sharp intake of her breath, toys with the dog between them but not rescinding what he said. No reason to, it's the truth.

The touch of her hand to his thigh startles him, "You know, Castle, there's a way to fix that."

She leans in close, rising to her knees.

Her hand coils behind his head and he only just registers the snap of her fingers. "Royal, up!"

His lips pop apart in confusion and the dog takes advantage, paws heavy on his shoulders, toppling him backwards, thrusting a slobbering, wet tongue over his lips. The dog's breath is hot, and heavy with the aftertaste of their shared steak dinner. Castle splutters and wrestles the dog away from his face, half laughing, half flabbergasted by the woman at his side.

She looks sheepish for a split second before it's washed away. Beckett cackles, falls onto her back, hands clutched to her chest and lost in a full blown belly laugh.

It's the happiest he's seen her in a long time.

She rolls onto her side, near hiccuping, a hand flitting out to his shocked face, glancing his lips as she mimes an apology. The words never make it out of her mouth as another burst of laughter trumpets its exit instead.

He finds himself unable to resist laughing too, especially when, distracted by Beckett, Royal sees an opportunity and dives back in for another lick.

It's not quite the kiss he imagined, he'd much rather be lost in the aroma of coffee and cherries than wet dog, but the sound of her laughter makes it all worth it. And it's enough. For now.


	8. 6x04 NOF

" **Put down the burger or I swear to god - I'll shoot you in the knee."**

"Oh, come on Beckett, I think today of all days I've _earned_ this." Taking another bite, Castle licks his lips, grinning, chewing. "Besides it's not a _cheeseburger_ so it doesn't count."

"Too close for comfort," she pouts, reaching for the beer bottle he's been nursing and taking a sip. It's still cold enough to quell the burn of sudden emotion lingering at the back of her throat. Though she's swallowing it down, Castle's already caught on, dropping his "double down, detective" burger on the plate in favour of taking her hand.

When he took over The Old Haunt he applied his creative flare to the menu, adding and renaming items for her and their friends at the twelfth. Now, though the place is buzzing, everyone seems to be giving them a wide berth. Kate throws a glance at their joined hands and then up to his face, finding his eyes soft, indulgent, as if he somehow planned it.

"You know I'm okay, right?" He nudges, their elbows clashing, "Small dent, colorful bruise, cool souvenir -" he nudges again when she frowns, " - pretty good day overall."

"You could've -"

He interrupts, finishes for her, "But I didn't."

His thumb darts over the ring on her finger, the one he knows she's been playing with all day. Castle strokes the band, presses lightly at the stone he stared at for a solid hour before he offered it up. He knows every facet and flaw, intimate knowledge caught up in the way light splinters and changes direction on impact. Soft strokes bring her focus back to the ring, their connection, the promise held within.

He slows and whether it's the soothing motion of his digits over hers or that he lets her know he's caught her worrying, she's not sure, but the life in the heat of his fingers must be magical.

She smiles, squeezing, breath deep and nourishing as she finally lets go of the tension she's been holding onto since hearing that gunshot. Kate falls into his side, careful not to lean too heavily, fingers light over his shirt, the splurge of color from his darkening bruise burning below.

She finds skin, teases, "I thought this was a celebration?"

Castle laughs, pleased, "It was, until you threatened to _shoot_ me."

She shrugs, dismisses, "Eh, I do that everyday."

"On the day I was _actually_ shot though, Beckett? I'm shocked." He tugs her in for a kiss, stealing the reply from her lips and leaving behind a flare of onions that, weirdly, always makes her hungry. "Besides, if you shoot out my other knee I'll never be able to do that thing you like where I kneel up and -"

She ducks under his arm, taking his train of thought with her.

"Where're you going?"

"Quick word with the chef -" her eyes flash, "- I suddenly feel like a cheeseburger"

"Not funny, Beckett." He reaches for her but she skirts his grab, genuine grin on her face now as she skips toward the kitchen.

"Little bit funny."


	9. 6x01 VALKYRIE

" **Still?"**

" **I guess so."**

She nods, narrows her eyes at the thin band on her finger and wiggles the neighboring digits until it slips into place. It irritates. Not in a bad way, just in an _it's been a while_ kind of way that makes her a little fidgety. She fiddles with it, adjusts it, plays in a way that seems to delight the man sprawled at her side.

"Stop it," she says quietly, not even having to tell him she's talking about the staring at her every move. He's already shaking his head, no intention of giving it up now. "Castle -"

He laughs.

"- I mean it."

His lips press into the warm skin of her shoulder before he sits up, "No, Kate. You really don't."

She rolls and really wants to glare at him, to contradict, but his hair is all chickened on his head from the ruffling of her fingers. She smirks instead, reaches a hand out and pushes back the flop of bed-headed-hair with a huff.

"You're a mess."

He owns it, smiles and pushes himself into the hand at his face, grin already bursting wide. He doesn't say it's all her fault, or that she shouldn't be surprised given what they just did. He doesn't have to. She can read every word of it in his eyes as clearly as if he'd spoken it aloud.

"Yeah, yeah," she mumbles before pulling away.

The engagement ring is back in place now and she can't help the sigh that slips between her lips. The contentment that comes from having him by her side. All of it distracting her away from the inviting leer spreading over his face.

Kate rolls onto her stomach, not caring about the sheet that slips from her body with the sudden movement. Her heels bob, cross just above her ass in a carefree way that has Castle laughing. Her eyes drift, finally, from the ring, meander over his face as lazily as her own smile blossoms. Kate crosses her arms and watches him back, slow blinking and made soft suddenly by the peace they find in each other. They fall back into this way of being together so easily.

Castle lifts the chain from where it's fallen on the bed, pulling the skin-warmed metal between his fingers slowly. He loops it around his thumb and forefingers, settling it in hopes it won't tangle before placing it on the nightstand. It will anyway, somehow they always do.

Kate watches him and wonders if he knows he presses a finger to it, almost reverently, when he lays it down. It seems to come so naturally she's sure if she asked him he wouldn't even be aware of doing it. Without knowing he shows the necklace that bears the weight of her mom's ring such a kindness of touch that it never ceases to catch her unawares.

There's a love there. A softness.

A softness to each of them, this time around, that makes moments like the one they shared in the bathroom - and the kitchen - seem almost insignificant compared to moments like _this_. Almost.

They've been apart a while now, longer than either of them wanted and his surprise visit has left her feeling lighter than she has in weeks. Things that have worried her and played on her mind fall away in his presence. Now he's _here_ Kate can see for herself that she was worrying over nothing. He places no more significance of his ring joining her mom's than he does on the fact she's had to remove it from her finger for work.

Why she ever thought otherwise, why she allowed those whispered doubts to creep in suddenly make her feel a little silly.

Castle's finger drifts along her cheek as he calls her attention back to him and Kate rises up, shakes off the feeling of unneeded melancholy and grins.

"I've missed you," she tells him again, not just for his benefit but for her own. She likes being able to tell him. Not just to see the way the truth of the words brings a happiness to his eyes. Makes the skin crinkle at the edges in a way she can tease him about. She tells him again to unleash the words she's kept to herself in his absence. The ones that have settled on her lips in sleep and stayed with her in the early hours, in the hardest parts of cases when his jovial nudge would have spun her in the right direction.

She will tease him about those happy little wrinkles that are holding her attention. Later. Not now. Now she feels soft and sentimental.

Loose and loving.

Kate tells him again, this time in a hushed whisper at the edge of his ear, the lobe glancing her teeth before she kisses his cheek. She rolls into him, enjoying the way the light catches her ring, the sparkle that lands on his face as she cups his jaw, pulling him closer.

"Missed you too, Beckett."

She hears an edge to the tone, knows the warmth of her body is distracting him away from words and sentimentality. She laughs, bites it back when Castle rolls over her, his weight pressing her flat to the bed.

"Missed this."

They move, hands sliding together, fingers tangling into an ever familiar knot. Kate hums when his thumb swipes across her ring, thoroughly intent on making up for lost time.

"Me too."


End file.
